Your Sweet Smile
by JadeHeart
Summary: A tale of inner demons and darkness, and how Kitazawa betrayed Eiri.


**Author:** JadeHeart  
**Fandom:** Gravitation  
**Warnings:** implied drug use, sexual situations including rape  
**Author's Notes:** I had this little flash of thought. Just my idea of what might have been in the past.

Summary: A tale of inner demons and darkness, and how Kitazawa betrayed Eiri.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creators of 'Gravitation'.

Your Sweet Smile

The clink of glass against glass rang out clearly in the quiet surrounding him as Kitazawa filled his glass once more. He knew he was drinking too much. He picked up the glass, looking into the dark fluid as he swirled it around, letting his eyes follow the vortex he had created. He half chuckled to himself as he took a deep draught, downing most of the glass in one swallow before placing it back on the coffee table before him and immediately refilling it. No, he wasn't drinking too much. This had been the norm for some time now. Once it may have been too much, but no longer.

He stretched his long legs out trying to relieve the growing cramp, ignoring the sound of an empty bottle as it rattled noisily across the wooden floor when his foot bumped against it. He turned his face as a light breeze drifted through the open window showing the setting sun, closing his eyes for a moment as it gently caressed his skin. Ah, he thought, letting his head fall back a little. It felt good - cool against his heated skin.

Once he would have been more than happy with just one or two glasses of wine. Just a taste to relax him and give him that warm glow inside. Once he hadn't needed more. Now, one or two bottles were never enough to drown the noise in his head, and pain in his heart.

He downed another glassful and refilled again. His life wasn't supposed to have been like this. He had wanted so much for himself, he had so many dreams once.

Unfortunately, his parents had had dreams for him too. Trying to live up to those impossible dreams at the expense of his own had proved too difficult and had soon broken him. He had wanted to please them, to do his best for them and make them proud of him, but soon he found himself stifled by their expectations and he had fled them and his own feelings of inadequacy.

He had come to New York to continue his studies but everything he turned his hand to seemed to crumble to dust in his grip, slipping through his grasp no matter how hard he tried to hold on. He had tried to pursue his dreams but by then it had seemed to be too late and he had forever lost them. But he hadn't wanted to give up. Not then.

He hadn't intended to get involved in gambling. That had begun in college, just a harmless past-time and the stakes were never high. Then a 'friend' had taken him to a shady part of town where it was taken a little more seriously. He had stayed for a short time, just to try it, but he had been smart enough back then to realize that this wasn't for him and had managed to extricate himself before he was totally lost.

However, by then, he was in with a different 'crowd'. The parties he now went to were hotter, heavier, darker, and far more intense. It had been so easy to say, 'I'll just try it once,' as he sampled the latest hip drugs on the market. When it is offered for free and guaranteed for a good time, why not? It was just once, and it was just for fun. He hadn't thought it would do any harm.

And at first it hadn't, but soon it was no longer free, and he found he couldn't study, or eat, or do anything without the drugs to ease his mind. He used his student allowance to purchase what he needed but it soon seemed that he always needed more, and with increasing frequency. He was sure they must have been giving him inferior grade product or short-changing him in quantity. That could be the only explanation for the increasing need.

He had been finding it so difficult with his studies, feeling like he was aimlessly wandering with no direction but he had still persevered. Somewhere in the back of his mind and deep in his heart he still wanted to find his dream. When he had his drugs he felt so much better. It made him believe that he could do it.

He had managed to scrape through all his classes with adequate marks, although a couple of them he had been forced to re-sit to prove he could do them. He was sure that some of the professors had hated him and deliberately marked him down on some of the courses. He knew he should have gotten better marks at the end of it all.

Then his life fell apart further as he ran into monetary difficulties. His student allowance wasn't covering everything he needed to continue to live here in New York. It just couldn't seem to stretch far enough to provide him with his general living costs and also his ever-increasing cravings. He had explained this to his 'friend', who had listened so sympathetically to his tale and provided him words of comfort and support. He had thought his 'friend' would understand his troubles and he had seemed to, telling him that he could help him out and loan him some stuff for a time, along with a little interest. He had been so thankful. He was sure he would have no trouble paying it back. He was sure to be able to. He just had to get things together.

But it hadn't worked out that way at all. He never seemed to be able to find enough money to cover his increasing debt, no matter what he did. He was already working part-time but it just wasn't enough. That was when his 'friend' informed him that there would be no more given to him until the debt was cleared. He had tried to carry on after that, determined to save the required money, clear the debt, and start with a clean slate. He could do without the drugs for that time whilst he got his act together. Of course he could.

Only he couldn't. The men had come to him in the darkness of the night demanding their money, demanding that he pay up now, every cent. He had given them all that he had, but it hadn't been enough. They still refused to leave without full payment, ignoring his words that he had nothing more to give them. They had looked him straight in the eye then and told him that there was something else, another way to clear his debt besides money.

His heart had leapt at that, overjoyed that there was a resolution to this difficult problem. Yes, yes, he would do anything. He hadn't realized just what it was they had been implying, but they told him, in no uncertain terms, just what was expected.

They had left it up to him then, standing before him, not touching him, just looking, waiting. He had turned, intending to walk away from it all, but for some reason he couldn't make his feet move. His mind was shouting at him to go, to leave, but instead he had found his body turning around again.

It had seemed that his body had been possessed by someone else as his hands rose and began to unbutton his shirt, slipping it from his shoulders, shivering as the chill night air touched his bare skin. His mind continued to yell at him, what was he doing, was he completely insane? But although he could hear that voice, so loud inside his head, he couldn't seem to stop his body's motions.

When he had stood naked before the men that voice had shut up, gone in an instant as though it fled in horror at what was to come. He could recall what he did next. He could recall every act that he did and what had been done to him. Every sordid detail he could remember clearly. It was surely his punishment.

At the end of it, as he had lain naked and moaning on the cold concrete floor, a small packet had been dropped next to his quivering hand. Even through the aches and pains from his abused body his fingers had reached out searchingly to grasp that small object in a tight grip. He had heard the laughter as the men had left him there.

He had returned home afterwards, weakly dragging himself back to his apartment. He had stood in the shower, scrubbing himself over and over again until his skin was raw, trying to wipe away the stain that lay on him, but to his inner eye he couldn't wash it away. He had stood under the needle sharp water for a long time, long after the hot water had run out and the cold pricks against his red skin felt like needles biting through. He had lain awake on the covers of his bed, eyes open and staring at the ceiling as the scene played out in his mind over and over again.

He had thought that would be the end of it, but it had turned out to only be the beginning. He had sworn to himself that he would never do such a thing again. He would not be degraded like that. It was wrong, so wrong. He had been weak he knew, but he could be stronger.

So when he had used the last of that packet he had endeavored to continue on without seeking more, but no matter how hard he tried, his body betrayed him. He had fought against the feeling gnawing inside him. He had tried to listen to his mind's voice telling him to hold fast, get some help, don't do it, but although he was listening, his body still chose its own path.

Once more he sought out his 'friend', and once more he didn't have the funds to gain what he needed. This time there was none given without payment. Payment had to be made before the goods would be handed over. Once again he was reminded that there were other currencies that he could pay in. So he had. Again.

And again.

And again.

He felt his life collapsing around him, falling inwards, burying him alive. He wanted things to change, he wanted to change, but he had seemed to have lost the ability to do so. He kept hoping though, striving for something, anything, instead of what he had. There had to be some way out of this. There had to be someone who could help him.

Then it seemed like his prayer had been heard and his life had suddenly taken a turn for the better. His financial difficulties resolved themselves with the advent of a new job opportunity. He had been so lucky to pick up the tutoring job, and it was something that he could do and do well. This could be his chance, a chance for something better.

That job had been a stroke of good fortune, a bright ray of sunlight in his dark world. It paid well, more than well, and the joy he felt at being able to have money once more was wonderful. Now he would be able to do all the things that he wanted to do. And he would be able to, finally, clear his debt.

The best thing though was that he found his young charge enthusiastic and keen. The boy's bright outlook on life, the way his young and innocent eyes viewed the world, lifted his spirits and reminded him of a past where he, too, had once been like that. He listened to the boy's dreams and aspirations, his desires and hopes, and he couldn't help but smile at it all. He clung to those meetings with Eiri, looking forward to them with eagerness as they drew him out of the darkness that his life had been and shone such light upon him. It gave him hope again, it made him believe in the world, in people, and in himself.

He placed the second empty bottle to one side and glanced towards the doorway leading to the small kitchenette. He didn't want to have to move but the rest of the wine was in there and he was already wanting more. There was also another craving clawing at him which he was trying his best to ignore.

He pushed himself to his knees and struggled to his feet. Holding his hands out before him for support he managed to make it to the door, holding onto it for a moment before moving across to the cupboard. He pulled out another bottle, turned away, paused, than swung back to grab a second. He was going to need it, yet he knew it would never be enough to wash away his sins.

He made his way back to the lounge, sliding down the sofa to reseat himself on the floor in his previous position. Sitting here he didn't have to move very far to continue on his pathway to oblivion. Unfortunately it wasn't coming soon enough.

He filled his glass and drank the first one completely in one long swallow and refilled immediately, holding this one for a moment in both hands, cradling it gently. He had thought his life was going to get better for a time there, he truly had. He had wanted it to be better. But he still couldn't stop himself. He had the money now so he could pay for what he needed so he no longer had to degrade himself. That had been such a relief, such a weight from his mind and heart. He had been very careful when he had used the drugs as well. He never took them when he was spending time with Eiri. He didn't need to. Just being around the boy was enough to brighten his day that he found he didn't need the artificial stimulation. Eiri alone could bring a smile to his face each time.

So he had really thought things were going to work out finally for him, but then…..then Tohma Seguchi told him that he knew of his addiction.

He lifted his glass and downed it quickly; too quickly as he began coughing as he accidentally sucked air in at the same time. He gasped for breath, thumping his own chest to try to clear the fluid attempting to enter his lungs, tears running down his face. He took a deep breath once the fit was over, reaching up to wipe his face. Just what were the tears for? Himself, his life, or….Eiri?

He poured another drink, mentally shrugging to himself, pushing away those thoughts, not wanting to go where they were leading. He took another swallow, a little more cautiously this time.

He had felt his world crumbling around him once more as he had listened to Tohma Seguchi's calm words as the man related to him all the details that he knew. How had he found out? Kitazawa had thought he had been so careful. His family didn't know, and his old friends back home didn't. In college he didn't really have 'friends', only those that helped feed his cravings. How had Tohma Seguchi learnt any of this?

He had stood there, frozen in place, feeling the darkness closing in around him, hearing Tohma's words wash over him. He had expected him to yell at him, even strike him perhaps. That is what he would have done in the circumstances. Instead Tohma spoke calmly, informing him that he could not have him continuing to tutor young Eiri in his current condition, but if he wished to do so then it was up to him to sort himself out. He had to go and get help, turn his back on his current ways. Was Tohma actually giving him a chance, he had wondered. It had seemed that way, but why? No, it must be a trick. No-one would give him a chance like that. That wasn't how the world worked.

Oh, no, Tohma wasn't that kind of person at all. He had turned to him, and with that smarmy small smile on his face, had informed him that if he did not put his life back in order he would be turned over to the police and he would ensure that Kitazawa was kept far, far away from Eiri.

He ground his teeth together at those memories, feeling the anger building again. What did Tohma know about anything? What did he know about suffering – with his good looks, fame and fortune? What did he know about having to struggle; crawling, striving, and failing time and time again? Everything just came so easily to people like Tohma Seguchi. They never had to worry about anything. The gods always smiled on them and showered them with all they desired. They never had to fight every step of the way as he had.

What right did Tohma have to sit in judgment on him, to tell him that his life was wrong, that he had to do something about it! What right did he have to threaten him with retribution? He was always so high and mighty, so smug in his perfect world of perfect things. It wasn't fair! Tohma didn't deserve it! HE should have been able to have a life like that too!

What right did Tohma have to threaten to take the only good thing in his life away? Threaten to snatch the sun away in his darkness, to take his Eiri?

He'd show him! He wouldn't let it happen! He wouldn't let someone like Tohma treat him like that. He could do what he liked with his life, no-one had the right to try to tell him anything else. He would do what he liked and keep his Eiri close. No-one, not even Tohma, could take him away from him. He would not let that happen. Was it so bad for him to want that? To want something better? How could that be wrong?

He barely remembered leaving Tohma's apartment after, blindly stumbling back to his own flat and drinking until he could no longer see before passing out. He had awoken many hours later in the dead of night, the darkness pressing in around him, like it was attempting to suffocate him. He was sweating yet felt chilled, his throat dry, his chest tight.

He had tried to ignore the feelings but they had crowded in on him, the insistent whining voice whispering in his mind of his want, his need, his desire, until at last he had given in. His hand had automatically reached out to touch what his body was craving and after he had laid back to enjoy the floating sensation and the warmth washing over him as he fell finally into a drug hazed sleep.

He felt shaky the next morning, so weak and bone-weary. It had been a real effort to drag himself from his bed, the sheets damp from his sweat clinging to him. He could smell his own body odour, but he ignored it to make his unsteady way into the kitchen.

He took a sip of the coffee and nearly gagged, leaning over the sink to spit it out, running the water to rinse his mouth. He looked at the rest of the contents in the cup. What was wrong with the coffee? It tasted like shit! He poured the rest out and made his way to the shower. He had really wanted that coffee.

He felt a little better once he had washed. Looking out his window as he dressed, he could see the blue sky and sun shining. It was a lovely day. He felt his lips curve in a smile. He would ask Eiri to meet him in the park today. They could hold their lessons outside as well as they could inside. Today as too good to waste.

He made the phone call swiftly, calling Eiri on his cell phone instead of at the apartment as generally he did. He didn't want to risk Tohma answering the call, not after yesterday's discussion. He managed to banish those uncomfortable thoughts at the sound of Eiri's bright voice, and his own smile deepened at the obvious pleasure his young student felt at his suggested meeting point for today's lesson.

He turned and picked up the relevant books for the lesson and made his way towards the door, but half way there he felt his knees give way. He leant heavily against the wall, letting it support his weight. Why was he feeling so weak? He knew he hadn't had any breakfast but he never usually did anyway. He thought back and realised that he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. It seemed like it was a long time ago but he didn't feel hungry. Perhaps he would have an ice- cream in the park with Eiri. That would be fun.

He took a deep breath and felt a little steadier and managed to make it the rest of the way to the door. His hand closed around the knob when he felt it turn in his grasp. What…?

The door pushed open, thrusting him backwards and two men entered. He knew them - only too well. He had met with them too many times to not know them.

He felt himself break out in a cold sweat at the sight of them, his stomach clenching so hard it hurt. They backed him into a corner, ignoring his attempts to tell them he had to leave or he would be late for work. Hard hands touched him, heavy bodies pressed against him, harsh voices whispered that his debt was still not cleared and payment was required. He was sickened by it all, scared and shaking. He was trapped and he knew it.

The hands pushed and pulled at him and all he could do was half-heartedly attempt to dislodge them. His actions were completely ineffectual, his fear over-whelming him. What would he do if he did stop them? They would just keep returning. They would never go away. Never.

As rough hands touched bare skin he couldn't stop himself. He began to plead with them, begging them not to do this anymore, praying that they would find some mercy for the pitiful creature before them that was himself. He didn't notice the tears running down his face, the sobs thickening his voice. The hands became rougher the more he struggled; pinching, grabbing, pulling, slaps striking his skin hard enough that they would leave bruises later. He was almost frantic in his pleas now, promising anything, anything to stop the nightmare overtaking him, the terror gripping his mind making him irrational.

They had ground his face into the wall, pressing up against his back. He felt their hot breath on his neck as they agreed to leave him alone – for a price. A price. There was always a price to be paid. He had promised them that price. He would have promised anything. He promised them a substitute as they requested. He hadn't known that they had been keeping such a close watch on him till now.

They had released him so suddenly that he had fallen to his knees, his ruined shirt hanging from his thin shoulders. At the door they had turned and reminded him that his promise had to be kept. For if it wasn't he knew what would happen.

They had left then, leaving him where he was. His entire body shook, his breath coming in deep gasps as though his lungs had been starved of oxygen. He continued to cry, hot tears running down his face as he trembled at what he had just done.

He wrapped his arms tightly around his body, gripping himself so hard that his fingers dug into his flesh and his protruding rib bones hurt his hands. If he didn't do as they wanted they would be back, he was sure of that. They wouldn't leave him alone. They wouldn't forgive him if he failed them. He knew what they would do to him. It would be what they had done to him many times before, only this time they had promised that it would be far, far worse for him.

He began to gag, bringing up bile that burned the back of his throat. He clapped his hands across his mouth, rocking on the floor as he cried even harder. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't do that with them anymore. He couldn't take it any longer!

He rose and cleaned himself up, changing his shirt, thrusting the previous one into the bin. He made his way to the park, no longer noticing what a beautiful day it was. Now it seemed that the sun would never be bright enough to penetrate the blackness that surrounded him.

He didn't see Eiri anywhere when he arrived. He glanced at his watch. It was only just reaching the time they had agreed upon. A wave of dizziness swept over him, the world spinning for a moment. He leant against the trunk of a tree nearby. He had to sit down. Looking around he spied an empty bench further down the path. He attempted to straighten up and walk to it but another wave of dizziness stopped him. He wasn't going to make it. Giving up, he slid down the trunk where he was and sat on the grass, leaning back against the tree, grateful for the support. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the weakness to go away.

He heard his name called then and his eyes snapped open. Turning his head he saw Eiri running towards him, eyes bright with excitement, a smile on his face, his youthful features open and trusting. Kitazawa felt his heart freeze in his chest. He had promised. But, oh, what had he done!

He managed to stand to greet his young charge, to smile for him and it wasn't all faked, just being with Eiri always made him smile. It truly was like the sun had come out again. They conducted their lesson, they talked, or at least Eiri did mostly, they even had an ice-cream though it seemed to curdle in his stomach a little. Then their time was over and Eiri was eagerly agreeing to come visit him later that day, before turning to run away and return home.

He watched him go, watched that disappearing figure with the joyful smile that was given only to him and knew it would be the last time he saw it. All that would be gone soon. Nothing would survive after today.

He had managed to make his way home and as soon as he had entered he had grabbed a bottle of wine and collapsed on the floor of his lounge room. The drink was not helping, it was not wiping away the memories, or the knowledge of what was to come. It did not bring him blessed peace. How can he stop this? What can he do? He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't! But what could he do!

If he didn't do this, he was lost. He didn't have the strength anymore, he couldn't stand up to them, he never could. He was a coward, a complete and utter coward. He knew that, and he wished it wasn't so, but that was the truth. He feared for himself more than anything else.

He took another drink. He heard the rattle at the door but didn't bother getting up from his slumped position on the floor. He wasn't even sure that he could get up, his whole body feeling heavy with alcohol. Perhaps he was drunker than he thought. Besides, he knew it was Eiri even before he heard the breathless young voice apologise for his lateness.

He waved the boy in, watching as he sat opposite. "Have a drink," he said, pouring a glass and sliding it forward on the table. It gave a high pitched scratching sound as it grated across the wooden top.

Eiri looked at the glass of dark liquid with wide eyes. "I'm not old enough to drink, sir."

So formal, Kitazawa thought picking up his own almost empty glass and taking another swallow that finished it.

"Don't be such a baby. You're almost a man so act like one."

"But I don't want to…"

Kitazawa slammed his hand down on the table, making the boy sitting across from him jump as the filled glass toppled over, spilling the drink across the top to drip to the floor below. The falling droplets captured Kitazawa's gaze, holding it. Why did the sight of the red wine look like blood to him? A wave of coldness swept over him, making his bones seem to ache. Why did he have such a feeling of….dread?

"Oh," the earnest voice snapped him from his frozen state, brining him back to focus on the boy in front of him. "I'll get something to clean it up!" Eiri sprang to his feet and headed for the kitchen.

"Leave it," Kitazawa said, reaching out and grasping the bottle nearby by the neck, and tipping it skyward to drink the last of its contents, before placing it on the floor near his feet.

"But…" Eiri began, uncertain whether to obey his revered teacher's request or continue on his task.

"I said leave it!" Kitazawa snarled struggling to his feet. He stood there, unsteadily swaying on his feet, not noticing as he turned that he knocked the bottle over, allowing the last dregs to flow from the open neck.

He could see Eiri standing there in a patch of sunlight that came through the window behind him, bathing the young boy in a glowing halo of gold.

He really was beautiful, Kitazawa thought. His golden hair and eyes truly made him look angelic. He remembered how he had first felt upon their initial meeting, when they were first introduced. When he had been hired by Tohma Seguichi to tutor his young friend he hadn't been expecting this golden boy to be his charge. Although Tohma also had those golden looks he had thought him to be unusual. He had not been expecting this child to be even more stunning. So much so it had literally stolen his breath away.

He had never been attracted to boys before but Eiri drew him in. He glowed with a gentle fire that made him want to reach out and warm himself in those embers. He couldn't stop his arms from reaching out even now, wanting that warmth to thaw the coldness growing ever stronger in the pit of his soul.

"Sir, what are you doing?" Eiri backed up to the wall until he had no where else to go.

Kitazawa leant in close to him, smelling the fresh clean scent that was the boy's very own and unique aroma from his time spent outdoors. It was a scent that reminded him of fresh air, sunlight and trees. It was intoxicating to his inebriated senses and drug- starved mind. He fell to his knees, holding the youth, wanting to burrow into that warmth, to steal it away, to hoard it greedily for himself and only himself.

He nuzzled against the belly, feeling it rising and falling rapidly with the boy's fear, but he couldn't stop himself. He felt like time was running away from him, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. This is what he wanted - had always wanted. The longer he had known this boy, the more time he spent with him, the more he had come to love him. Now he could acknowledge his feelings truly. He did love Eiri.

He didn't want to lose this. He didn't want to lose this feeling, this smell, this touch. He wanted to keep it all. Eiri had been his new hope, a hope for a better future, a new life. He was to have been his salvation. That is what he wanted.

He heard the loud knock on the door and the sound as it was pushed open. No, his mind screamed, and his hands automatically tightened their grip, not wanting to let go of what he had.

He felt the heavy hand fall on his shoulder, dragging him backwards, pulling him away from that warmth he craved as much as his body did the drugs.

He wanted to protest, to renege on the deal he regretted making now so badly, but the horror of the alternative he couldn't bear any longer. So he had sold his soul and sold his angel to the demons of his Hell.

He was pushed away, his fingers curling in a futile attempt to retain their grip on that slim figure, but instead a crumpled $10.00 bill wrapped around a small packet was pressed into his hands and he stumbled backwards, clutching his blood money.

He saw the thugs close in around Eiri, saw his wide eyes filled with fear and confusion. His pale face was whiter than ever he had seen before, frozen in shock like the smooth alabaster marble of a perfect sculpture.

He had to look away when those eyes met his, those eyes that were pleading, begging. Begging for rescue, begging for understanding. He could give neither. All he could do was look away.

He heard the sound of material ripping, the sounds of flesh striking flesh, the soft cries, the high cry of pain muffled brutally, the grunts of frantic rutting, and through it all the weeping. He tried to close his ears as he had closed his eyes but he couldn't. Every sound was burned into his mind, the sounds of his betrayal.

Then there was another sound that interrupted this pattern. It was short and sharp, not particularly loud, yet at the same time it seemed almost deafening in this small room. It was followed closely by an echo of that sound. It startled him so much that his eyes snapped open.

It only took him a moment to register the sight before him. Two men were lying on the floor, eyes open and blank, staring upwards and seeing nothing. Red flowers bloomed on their chests, a black centre part of that grotesque blossom. Even as he watched the petals opened wider, spreading further.

His eyes lifted to look directly at the disheveled angel leaning against the wall, standing in judgment on the evils of mankind. An angel whose half-naked body shook and gazed on these poor condemned mortals with a tear-streaked face.

In the trembling hands, the angel held the means of redemption, the weapon in which to smite the wicked. Kitazawa looked at that object and it seemed he was gazing into a dark abyss, a small black hole that he knew would soon exert its intense force and suck his soul into those depths where he would be lost forever.

He lifted his eyes from that oh, so small point to gaze into the tear-filled gold that met his. He took a small step forward, wanting to say he was sorry, wanting to apologise for what he had done and beg for forgiveness though he knew he didn't deserve it in anyway. He wanted to reach out and hold the vision before him, to wipe away those tears. He wanted to somehow make it right.

He saw the lip quiver, another tear fall from the long lashes to slide down the smooth cheek just as he heard the sharp sound for the third time.

There was a pressure against his chest, then warmth, followed by a stab of pain, almost an ache. His breath caught in the back of his throat as a rush of cold flooded through him.

He felt himself fall, though he had no sensation of his legs buckling, nor did he feel the impact against his body as he struck the hard unyielding floor. Instead he kept his eyes fixed on his golden boy, that beautiful face filling his fading vision.

This was a fitting end. It was right that his end came at the hands of that one person he loved so much – yet had not loved enough. Now, perhaps this would make amends for his weakness. Now he hoped that Eiri's tears would cease to fall.

Darkness crawled in slowly around his line of sight, still fixed firmly on Eiri. He tried to smile at him but he wasn't certain if he actually did so.

Don't cry, Eiri, he thought, willing the boy to hear his silent words. Don't cry anymore. There's no need to cry now. Please be happy again and smile once more. Don't ever stop smiling. I will always remember that.

Your sweet smile.


End file.
